The left turn down the mud path led to our heaven on earth,

The pungent smell of molasses…priceless was its worth.

Rolling up our windows yet loving the muddy sight,

Our excitement knew no bounds, our thrill was at its height!

Ancient and rusting, was the gate to the right

closed always, day or night.

The serene and calm lake on the left

I would carry it along if it could be heft.

Narrow pathways lined with eucalyptus,

Our jubilation was such that nothing could afflict us..

Running through the gate painted white and red

Devoured by ecstasy, for the lovely time ahead.

For us, at 10 am the sun used to rise,

Or at 11 or at 12, depending on whenever we open our eyes.

Lazy mornings extending till afternoon,

God knows how days reached from sun to moon.

Pure meals, pure milk, pure life, so rare,

Sleeping and playing and about nothing to care..

Running around in the humungous open courtyards

And climbing the guava trees to eat and content our hearts!

Black maroon Mulberries, tasting sweet and sour

Plucked from a tree, high as a tower.

Exotic fruits and tress to call just our own,

Gone are the days when these gems were grown.

Evening saunters saw us to the lake

Glimpses of hornbills and kingfishers to take.

Fields of sugarcane on either side,

Majestic for us was that bullock cart ride!

Trolleys of tractors, bonnets of our cars,

We have mounted on all, to travel near or far.

Nearby dams for picnics, weekly bazaars close to the tarn,

Or amusing ourselves leisurely, with calves in the barn.

Opposite our farmhouse was a delightful acreage,

Pretty as a picture, its beauty hard to gauge.

Weeds, bushes, crops and trees, all along,

This land was modified at every furlong.

With dusk, appeared the stooping old priest,

Commencing the prayers from the northeast,

Crooning the devotional songs was done by all,

But ringing the bell was a matter of brawl.

Nights arrived with anticipation anew,

Spine-chilling ghost stories would now begin to brew.

Drawing our chairs close to the fireplace,

Insane with excitement, our hearts would race.

Our most magnificent days are now over,

But this is intoxication, where perpetual is the hangover.

We are overcome with nostalgia while travelling down the memory lane,

Realizing it’s all lost engulfs us in pain.

Yes, we will not lay eyes on it ever again,

But why agonize ourselves in vain?

Will we ever forget it?? Oh never!!!

These cherished memories of our precious childhood will fill our hearts forever!!